


At Night

by KittehBoesternchen



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Ciel's imagination runs wild when he sleeps, Crossdressing, Dreams, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Multiple Pairings, One Shot Collection, Sebastian likes watching, Shameless Smut, Tentacles, and is then jealous.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittehBoesternchen/pseuds/KittehBoesternchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's at night that their roles are reversed. The servant will be the Master as soon as the sun sets. (More one-shots to come!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s at night that their relationship changes. Not subtly but dramatically so, in fact.

Ciel is sixteen, a young man of surpassing loveliness (Sebastian’s words, definitely not his) and quite firmly established in his role as the Queen’s watchdog and head of the Phantomhive household, a force to be reckoned with both in the Underworld of London as well as on parties and grand balls that Sebastian makes him go to. Pushy bastard. Ciel hates parties.

He does, however, enjoy the fact that he can let go all of the responsibility at night and surrender it to the darkness that blankets him at all moments of the day – as well as the rewards that come with being a ‘good, obedient little Earl’ by allowing his butler to decide which social outings will help strengthen his position.

The smooth, square leather flap sitting at the end of the slim riding crop taps the underside of his chin gently to raise his face. Above him in the velvety darkness of his bedroom, he can make out the swirling magenta of Sebastian’s demonic eyes, slashed by a thin, catlike pupil each. The lack of light doesn’t allow him much else in the visual sense, and the loss of one major sense, even if he usually only uses half of it due to his trademark eyepatch, heightens all other sensations. He doesn’t feel as wary or frightened as he probably should have in presence of an ancient demon. To mortally harm the body harvesting a good meal would be beyond foolish and foolish, Sebastian is definitely not. 

“You seem distracted, young Master.” Sebastian purrs, now that he has the teen’s attention and tenderly brushes the buttery leather down the slender neck, over a pulse he can feel speeding up as the miniscule impulses race up the crop’s thin length and into his fingertips. Delightful. “Am I boring you?” Ciel’s reaction to the question will set the mood for tonight’s games. Ciel swallows, and he can feel that in his fingertips as well. “No.”

“Very good. Pay attention, now.” He brushes the crop down the milky skin, along the curve of the boy’s neck (Ciel shudders), down the slope of one tucked up shoulder to the tender inside of the teen’s elbow. Ciel sits patiently, naked in the darkness, caressed by shadows on all sides, knees spread and heels tucked beneath his bottom. The crop leaves his elbow, where it tickled, to firmly tap his right nipple, Sebastian’s aim dead-on. The young Earl’s breath hitches in a small gasp, feeling blood fill the nub and make it hard and round. His eyes close with the flap stroking the nub, lips parting to pant softly; the smooth leather rubbing against such a sensitive part of himself feels divine and he curls his hands into fists where they are bound in the small of his back. He knows better than to squirm, but he can’t help arching into the tantalizing caress. With a velvety chuckle, Sebastian pulls away from his target, trailing the crop over the boy’s breastbone, swipes a bow to just barely miss the twin on the other side…and taps this one, too, without warning. A little harder, a sharper little flick against the tender skin. Ciel mewls. And as Sebastian knows how much the Earl hates expressing his need, he has to grin at that sound.

He cups the boy’s chin with his free hand, tips it up, covers the open mouth with his own, just a little taste. His tongue touches the small, pink one behind those pouty lips and the demon can’t help but hum in satisfaction at the delicious tang of mortality. He licks into Ciel’s mouth, barely restraining his greed, stroking the crop along a trembling belly and over the pale flank. Beneath Ciel’s bound arms, wrist to forearm with silk shawls, the warmed leather touches the top of the high, round bottom. His young master moans into his mouth as the intimate touch and he gives one of those luscious cheeks a sharp little tap just to feel the boy jump.

The demon wills the candles on the nighttable to life, dousing the room in a warm, dim glow. Another smack, then he steps back to take a good, long look.

Ciel hasn’t shifted his position yet, although he has strained a little on his knees. His eyes have darkened and are glittering beneath thick lashes and the wild fall of Ciel’s bangs, lips parted and plush from kissing. His back is arched in an elegant bow which presents his chest with its rosy little jewels just begging to be plucked and nibbled. His slender cock is hard, curved back against his belly, and its rosy flush matches the one on the boy’s cheeks. Lovely. Sebastian leans in and nips at the full lower lip, presses a kiss against a warm cheek, nuzzles his lips to the warm shell of one perfectly formed little ear. “You’ve been a good boy today, you know.” He hears the boy swallowing. “I believe you have deserved a reward.”

Navy blue eyes look up at him; Sebastian is in shirtsleeves, hair unruly, his gloves having been lost somewhen along the way. The bastard manages to look composed even inappropriately dressed somehow. Ciel is sitting on the tea trolley Sebastian uses for his snacks and breakfast – its sturdy enough to hold him and adds the advantage for his butler to be able to easily access him from all sides. As Sebastian nibbles down his neck, teeth deliciously sharp over the tender skin, a hand brushes against Ciel’s side, stroking it, then urges him up onto his knees. The motion lifts his behind from his heels and destabilizes him enough that he has to concentrate to hold balance…or tip against his butler. As Sebastian presses his tongue against his pulse point, the crop sails down on his ass, catching the sweet spot just below the curve, between thigh and buttock. Ciel turns his face into the ravendark hair by his cheek and moans. He can feel the damnable butler smirk against his neck. The hand on his waist slides down and back to cup the abused buttock, squeezing and pawing it almost greedily. While one is occupied and Ciel is lulled into a false sense of momentary peace, the crop’s smooth head flap hits the other cheek.

The smacks are sharp, but never brutal; they have the effect of making Ciel’s skin tingle all over and coloring the round behind a nice rose color, but the pain is dulled by those fingers and lips finding all the spots he loves having touched. He trembles when lips seal around one of his nipples and suck and nibble them like candy. A lingering moan pearls from his lips when a finger swipes the dewy droplets from the head of his eager cock and dab them onto his nipples, only to be sucked away. It’s deliciously dirty, and Ciel can’t look away. He knows exactly when Sebastian decides to have a bit of fun for himself – he pulls away and makes a show of unbuttoning his pants just enough to pull his heavy arousal out of the flap, stroking it a few times. The demonic butler delights in the greed with which Ciel’s pretty eyes track his hand. How he unconsciously flicks his tongue against his lower lip when a pearly droplet appears. Sebastian steps closer again, offering the length up teasingly, knowing that the height difference is too great. Without the use of his arms, Ciel can’t lean down safely by himself, but the demon steadies him with a palm against his chest and draws him down until those sweet, full lips touch the head of his cock. When he feels Ciel lean into his support trusting him to steady him in this precarious position, he feels a surge of pleasure greater than what can be had with physical stimulus. The child trusts him, relies onto him. Sebastian loves feeling needed.

The pad of his middle finger rests on one aroused nub as he holds the boy aloft over his cock, watching the back of his head, feeling those lips whisper along the wet skin of the engorged head of his cock. He gently taps the round bottom a few more times, enjoying the gasps against his hard flesh, then sets the crop aside and delves his fingers into the small jar filled with sweet almond oil next to Ciel’s thigh. He coats them generously and sets them, dripping wet, into the very top of the crevice between Ciel’s delectable buttocks. Slowly, very slowly, the excess oil seeps down the crack, reaching the pink little starburst the exact moment that Ciel takes him into his mouth, tongue pressing a moan against his cock. The boy shivers, fingers curling and releasing impotently behind his back and jerks almost violently when the pads of two fingers delicately press against the opening to his body. The demonic butler massages the trembling muscle until it submits, allowing first one, then two fingers inside. The sucking around Sebastian’s cock becomes more urgent as he fingers the boy, hungry little sounds that Ciel will have to supersede in the morning if he ever wants to look his butler in the eye again. Sebastian grins wildly as he bends over the slender boy, watching his fingers disappear into the precious body, seeing the Earl’s ass and thighs tremble, that sweet mouth sucking him, messy and greedy. One of these days Sebastian needs to teach him how to deepthroat, the boy is old enough to learn after all. 

With twin wet sounds, Sebastian pulls his fingers out of the young Earl’s well-stretched hole and his cock out of his mouth. All business, he grabs the tea trolley and spins it slowly after helping Ciel sit up again, until the boy’s backside is to his front. He grins at the thought of treating Ciel like one of his beloved snacks, but he curls an arm around his middle and kisses his shoulders before nudging up against his body.

Ciel moans, cheeks red with what should be embarrassment but feels like lust and archs back against his butler, feeling the demon’s thick cock ease into him. The intrusion is painful as usual, a dull sting that travels through his thighs and up his spine, but his own cock is hard and leaking against his front…and gently begins to bounce as Sebastian pulls back only to push back inside. The slide is slow, wet but snug enough to feel the friction and Ciel pants, hanging his head with his eyes closed. The demon is relentless, mouth travelling over Ciel’s shoulders and the back of his neck, delicately nipping, but the closer he gets, the more insistent become his bites until he is rutting into the boy, teeth closed tight around the back of his neck, moaning with each thrust into the silky, hot depths. Every brush over his prostate sends Ciel higher, spins the spiral towards his release tighter, now if only Sebastian would let him….oh….

A brush of fingers against his straining cock and Sebastian’s mouth moaning his name against his wet skin set him off, covering the trolley and the expensive rug beneath it with delicate ribbons of creamy ejaculate. The tight channel around Sebastian’s pistoning length quivers and spasms and he fills the boy, marking him from inside, panting against his shoulder and petting his flat, trembling belly. His other hand grips the subtle hip and he pulls back, delighting in the slick way he pops from his prey’s body, loving the way a gob of his own cum slides down the inside of Ciel’s thigh, down onto the trolley’s delicate tablecloth. A part of his mind knows he will have to clean the fabrics tomorrow, rug and tablecloth both, but that can wait…his young master’s deliciously defiled body needs to be cleaned first.

Sliding his arms around the limp body, he lifts him and carries him to the adjoined bathroom. He keeps the bathwater at the perfect temperature for exactly this reason, easing the teen into the tub tenderly and watches the fatigued eyes as he undresses, then slides in behind him. Ciel curls against his chest and purrs like a kitten when the soft washcloth rubs over his skin, cleaning away sweat and semen and caressing his skin lovingly. Sebastian can feel the little one’s heartbeat calm beneath his palm – one day, he muses, he will feel it come to a complete stop. The thought makes him surprisingly uncomfortable. Neither says a word in the afterglow.

Sebastian can see the dim, grey glow of dawn when he tears his gaze from the dozing boy against his chest and glances out of the high window. He will let the Ciel sleep in tomorrow. 

When the young master wakes, their roles will be reversed again – until the sun sets once more.


	2. Off his feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel has an interesting dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At Night was originally meant as a one-shot...but this popped into my head and I thought, hey, a series of one-shots would be fun! So here we go...

Ciel gasps, breath short in his chest. His slender fingers curl in the sheets…no, not sheets, this doesn’t feel like his bed. This is not even his home. Beneath him is crude linen draped over a wooden box that sounds hollow whenever he nudges against it hard enough to draw a sound. The air doesn’t smell like the lavender water Sebastian sometimes spritzes onto his pillows to help him relax, but dry and sharp and salty. But why isn’t he in his bed? It’s clearly late, dark already even, and where is Sebastian?

Bitten shut lips part involuntarily around a sharp moan as something brushes over his exposed nipple…something vaguely cool and splintery hard. He arches up and is met with a snigger that puts his hair on end.

“Gnihihihi…my Lord, how sweetly you can play along,” his shadowed lover coos at him. He is unable to reply. 

His heel hits the box beneath him again just as one of those long, splintery fingernails brushed over his body again, almost playfully, starting at his lower lip. The full pout drags down slightly as the fingers travel, over his chin, down his throat to rest in the hollow – a firm thrust would be all that is needed and Ciel would bleed, quite strongly too. His pulse jumps. 

The nail drags on, over his breastbone, thankfully leaving his nipples alone this time…but the lower it gets, the clearer it becomes to the young Earl that he is quite naked. On a tablecloth. Laying on what he has to identify as a coffin, even if that makes him quite uncomfortable. Two hands touch his thighs, pull them apart, greedily kneading the silken insides. He can’t help but moan again. 

“This is not exactly what I meant when I told you I had a special coffin ready for you,” Undertaker coos as he leans down to sample the fine, porcelain skin of Ciel’s chest with his mouth. His lips, peculiarly soft, brush along his sternum to find one of the rosy nubs formerly ignored, kissing it almost tenderly. His hands are still on his slender thighs, warm and dry. Long grey hair sweeps over one shoulder to brush against the boy’s side; from beneath a long fringe, bright green eyes look up at halflidded mismatched ones. “At least I have a special coffin nail for you,” he goes on, sliding a hand down the boy’s leg and taking a hold of the delicate ankle. The soft sole of Ciel’s foot is being pressed against the robes the usually deranged man wears, encountering a thick hardness against his toes.

The hand on his foot manipulates the small appendage skillfully against the man and with a flick of his free wrist, the black robe falls open and off of him, vanishing like a wounded ghost. Ciel has no time to wonder where it went; his body is no stranger to pleasure, Sebastian has seen to that, and right now there is a greed in his lower belly that demands to be satisfied. Laying on the last resting place a human will ever get, he watches both his feet being taken, his knees bent and angled outwards so his feet can envelop the thick, pale cock in front of him. He doesn’t have to do anything; Undertaker is leading him, taking pleasure in his body without his doing. His soles glide up and down the thick shaft, his toes curling in against the hot, hard flesh almost eagerly, as if to grasp hold. Ciel’s hands grab the linen beneath him, pearly teeth biting his lips again as he watches his informant thrusting into the soft flesh, lime green eyes sweeping over his body – bared, all of it, with how he is being held open – with unveiled desire. Before long, Undertaker merely holds his legs steady, pounding in a frenzy, teeth bared in a snarl; the rush of pleasure is flushing his skin, making his scars stand out palely. 

Precum has been hitting Ciel in tiny, colorless droplets, like the very beginning of a rain, all over his lower belly; the wetness dries almost as soon as it is put onto his smooth skin. Undertaker makes a strangled groan and sniggers breathily a moment before he stills, grasping him so tight it almost hurts. Hot, copious splashes and robes of creamy cum rain down on him, covering his heaving belly, the insides of his thighs, his flushed little balls. Ciel moans and arches his back, feeling his own cock throb in jealousy. Undertaker grins, lifting one of his feet, and cleans what he has gotten onto his toes with his tongue. The ticklish feeling of the slick muscle worming inbetween his toes is a cord right down into his arousal, tugging and teasing. The greyhaired man laves his tongue broadly up his sole. The young Earl gasps and pants, trying to squirm away, or closer, or -!

 

He sits up in his bed with cold sweat in the nape of his neck and a raging hard-on. It’s dark, but he knows the scent of his room, the feel of his mattress and sheets. With a groan, he sinks back into his pillows and stretches out; his nightshirt in tangled around his waist, baring his thighs. Each slide of his feet against the smooth sheets reminds him of what his subconscious just did to him. 

It can’t be helped – he can’t sleep like this. Ciel sighs even as his hand brushed down his body, tugging his shirt free from around him so it won’t constrict him, but before he can grab his erection, a hand cleverly intervenes and takes his. 

“Why are you awake?,” asks a familiar voice, dark and smooth as poured molasses. Tender lips press a kiss to the palm of his hand. Ciel turns and snuggles into the mostly bare form of his demon butler, pressing his hot little face against a smooth chest. He murmurs something about a nightmare even as Sebastian pets down his side and flank, onto his thigh, to pull his upper leg over his hip. His hand, ungloved, caresses the flawless skin of one buttock. Ciel imagines those black nails against his pale body. “No nightmare has ever made you hard before, young Master,” Sebastian chides him quietly. There is a smile in his voice and Ciel just knows it’s just this side of mocking. He grumbles incoherently against his butler’s flawless skin. 

His chin is tipped up by fingers that don’t need to fumble around for it – Ciel wonders, once again, if Sebastian can see in the dark just like the cats he so loves. The answer is probably yes. Clever, beautifully shaped lips press against his tenderly, coaxing them open, his demon’s tongue licking into his unresisting mouth. 

Sebastian knows exactly how to get him off; his hand squeezes his round little ass, fingers sliding deeper to gently play with his tight balls. One fingertip rests against his hole and massages it endlessly gentle, the way Ciel likes best. The boy’s breath hitches against his lips and he eats up the delicious mewl that follows it. Wetness hits his skin as soon as he presses his thumb against the underside of Ciel’s quivering cock.

Sated, the little master sinks against him and quickly nods off; Sebastian’s eyes glow in the darkness faintly, holding the supple little body close, stroking his hair and inhaling the sweet scent that clings to the boy.

He’s going to have a private word with the Undertaker, it seems.


	3. That Earl, Crossdressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is turning into something with...actual plot? Whaaa?

His little master is squirming in his sleep again. 

Normally, Sebastian wouldn’t be bothered by it; he’d just wrap the lithe body into his arms, nuzzle the kittensoft hair and wait until whatever wyvern nibbling at Ciel’s subconscious had passed. It never took very long and even if the young Earl would never admit it, the embraces did calm him down at night. But ever since the boy had startled awake seeming both aroused and scared, hands grasping at his demon and lashes wet with unshed tears, Sebastian has begun to worry a little. 

He’s very familiar with the kind of dreams that usually haunt the young master – fire, knives, caged misery and loved ones cut down by very real threats. In these, Ciel will murmur, groan and kick, tension in every line of his willowy body. These new dreams have him gasping, whimpering, and writhing in a way that doesn’t seem quite so traumatized after all. As demons don’t sleep and thus don’t experience dreams, Sebastian doesn’t quite understand why, if the child is dreaming of what they do in bed (or on his desk, or the loveseat in the library, or between his sterling roses even), he doesn’t just open his pretty eyes and take what he is obviously craving. But humans are odd creatures and the mystery intrigues the demon, he has peeked into the little master’s subconscious the last time he had one of those dreams. 

Needless to say, that little episode on the coffin had him raising his brows and poke at the boy until he woke up. How morbid, really. And how peculiar that pressure in his own chest when he thinks of it, how it has him prowling ever closer to the boy, unwilling to let others come too close. He would think it farfetched to call it jealousy. Oh no, never that. If the brat wants to paw at other men, fine, let him knock himself out – 

And he is squirming again. Those soft little mews escape plush, parted lips, slender brows creased, back arching. Sebastian lies beside him and watches curiously. They are both in their nightshirts, but where his is perfect, the brat’s is rucking up around his hips with the way his legs scissor on the smooth sheets. Sebastian clicks his tongue in reproach and delves into the fascinating little mind again.

It’s a familiar scene at first. On the sofa in one of the sitting rooms of the manor reclines a smirking Lau, lap filled with the woman he calls his sister. Pale, slender legs are folded on either side of the man’s thighs, that tiny skirt barely covering a round ass, small waist…and…that is so not Ran-Mao’s hair. Instead of the thin braids and horn-shaped updo, Sebastian spies slate colored strands he knows to be soft as kitten fur and the soft gasps he hears as the Chinese’s hands are smoothing up and down those silk clad sides are not feminine either. Sebastian barely suppresses a chuckle. His little master is full of fun fantasies. Maybe he has put the boy one time too many into feminine dress if he feels the need to dream himself into a micro skirt. The view is sweet enough that Sebastian is able to push back the uneasy sensation niggling in his chest. It’s not unusual for someone as young as the little Lord to dream about his associates (Ciel would berate him for calling them his friends, even just in his mind) in this way, after all, his loyal butler has more startled than nudged his budding sexuality awake not too long ago. That is what Sebastian tells himself, at least. Humans are such fickle creatures.

Ciel shifts on the lap when pale hands smooth down his back and come to rest on the small, tight buns of his behind. Greedy garnet eyes watch the long fingers paw at the supple flesh, the fabric covering it inching up with each kneading motion and the squirming the caresses entice. The boy’s slim thighs were exposed before, now the curve of his ass follows their example, the cheeks spread with his position. Within moments, Sebastian can see the lovely pink little hole he likes so much wink at him with each grasp of those hands, the skirt pushed up to the small of his back. The demon relishes seeing the brat like this even if it’s someone else than him pawing the boy; he can ignore the serene smirk that greets him over Ciel’s shoulder. For now. His fingers twitch in sync with the Chinese man’s, aching to be on that supple flesh. Of course, he could just withdraw and wake the boy up – but what fun would that be?

One by one, the tiny buttons of Ran-Mao’s shirt are being undone by unseen hands, baring the brat’s neck, then his collarbone and one shoulder, then his upper body to the waist when it falls open. Sebastian’s eyes fix themselves to the slender neck; curiously, even in sleep Ciel sees himself with the branded mark on his back. Lau leans forward and puts his lips against the side of Ciel’s neck and something inside Sebastian snaps; within a heartbeat, he has forcefully wiped away the image of the Chinese and replaced it with his own, possessively clutching at the young Earl. Ciel doesn’t seem to notice – he has his eyes closed and his head canted, softly humming in bliss to the lips running up and down the side of his neck, from ear to curve. The demon smoothes his hands up the narrow waist to cup the boy’s chest, thumbs brushing both pink nipples that are barely peeking over the folded fabric. 

“You’re mine,” he tells the boy in a soft growl, cursing himself the moment he opened his mouth. The boy knows he belongs to Sebastian. Sebastian is not jealous. Not one bit, he doesn’t have a reason to be…Ciel blinks his eyes open, one deep navy blue, the other marred purple. As he nods at him in agreement, a sparkle like stars runs through that marked iris. His left hand cups the back of Ciel’s head and pulls him forward into a rough kiss. In slumber, the boy doesn’t protest like he does in waking when Sebastian is too rough with him; he becomes pliant and curls his arms around the demon’s neck. Small fingers tangle in ravendark hair. Sebastian comes undone a little. 

His thumbs flick the little nubs again and Ciel breaks away from his mouth with a small, startled mew, gasping hot breath against his demon’s smirking mouth. The pads of those fingers make slow, firm circles until the little Earl is squirming on his lap, an insistent erection rubbing at his stomach. His own slaps gently against the underside of his little master’s behind when his pants vanish in a flash, freeing it suddenly. “You’re mine, and you are offending me greatly dreaming about other men.” A quick bite against the curve of Ciel’s shoulder has the boy whining. “I will just have to claim you again.” The head of his cock sinks into the brat’s hole like into warm butter. This is a dream, after all; while pleasant and fuss-free, Sebastian suddenly misses the interesting little expressions of pain, discomfort and pleasure that race over Ciel’s doll-perfect face when he presses into the tiny body outside of this dreamworld. In here, all his little master does is gasp, throw his head back and rock back against him – certainly intriguing as well, especially when the boy begins rocking his hips immediately, spearing himself on the thick staff greedily. Sebastian leans back comfortably into the couch he would normally never dream of sitting on, perfect butler that he is, and watches with lidded, glowing crimson eyes. His hands yank up the now barely dress-like fabric of the little outfit higher so he can see better; it bunches up around Ciel’s lean middle easily, a belt of soft, black-and-lavender, his arms still caught in the dark sleeves. Sebastian grasps the fabric and smiles darkly. With it firmly in hand, he holds Ciel’s reigns and uses them quickly to slow the brat down, producing the most interesting little mewl when he forces the slim hips to stop bouncing on him. With slow, firm pulls, he impales the little master on him, harder than he would have dared with Ciel’s actual body. It is incredibly satisfying. Sebastian’s own hips rock back up into him each time he yanks the boy down. Speeding up towards his climax, the need to claim the boy almost unbearable, the demon clenches his teeth and focuses on the sublime body straddling his; the pretty face flushed, eyes almost closed, petal lips parted to freely moan and gasp and pant. It’s the thought of painting that pretty, haughty, needy face with his cum that makes him grasp Ciel’s hips and grind down as he fills the twitching, silky channel. 

Gasping, Sebastian sits up in bed, blinking disorientedly into the darkness of the Earl’s bedroom. In complete surprise he finds himself not only rock-hard, but sticky as well. An incredulous look is settled on the boy sleeping peacefully next to him; there is a satisfied smile on Ciel’s usually sulky mouth. The little Earl sleeps easily, peacefully, no trace of a wet dream on his warm little body. 

If Sebastian was the kind of man that easily doubts himself – this would be the exact moment he would start wondering if he was losing his grasp. 

With a small huff, he falls back into his pillow, mindlessly putting an arm around Ciel as the boy squirms closer and snuggles into his side. 

Just whose wet dream was this just now?


	4. Tentacles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Lucyndareads. See, I did it :P Enjoy!

Sebastian figures he shouldn’t allow Ciel to see this. At all. At least for the next ten or so years. As a demon and an old one at that, he has seen things; horrible things, gruesome things, all kinds of things that humans would detest or find disturbingly fascinating. He never batted an eye at any of it. 

He does now. Before Ciel, before he fell into this contract of contracts, he hasn’t considered anything or anyone besides himself. The odd master or mistress, for a little while, surely, always within the parameters of the respective contract – he has considered them. Their reactions, rather. He found them all amusing to a degree.

Today’s foray makes his stomach twist in unease. He has accompanied Ciel into London as he usually does; Ciel is more than old enough to make his interrogations by himself, of course, his father did at this age. But Vincent Phantomhive was never this delicate. Sebastian is always with him. Always.  
Sebastian frowns at the back of his master’s head as Ciel stands next to Lau – something that irks the demon more than he wishes to admit. Of course, it’s natural and expected of a young man to consider his acquaintances in matters of the bedroom; ever since Ciel has dreamed of riding Lau’s cock in an outfit he has buried at the very back of his closet, Sebastian’s hackles rise when he merely thinks of the man. He has had the same quirk when Ciel had to visit the Undertaker a few days ago.

His little master and the Chinese are in light conversation as they move along the corridor of the townhouse above the opium den Lau runs in the basement. They’re in Belgravia, the same district Ciel’s townhouse is located in. Even here, with thick rugs and beams and the floor between the hallway and the den, Sebastian can smell the fumes being consumed below. He worries, for a half second, how they might affect his little lord before he shakes his head imperceptively. How ridiculous. It’s close to impossible that the drug fumes affect Ciel up here – he can smell them only because his senses are superior in every way. Ciel is perfectly safe.

From drugs, that is. Sebastian wants to snatch the boy close and hold his face against his chest, block Ciel’s view with the folds of his shirt. He wants to protect, which is something he has never wanted before.

The quartet come to stand in front of the next painting Lau has acquired recently; Lau smiling contentedly, his hands in the wide sleeve of the opposite arm, Ran-Mao in her incorrigibly indecent attire clinging to him. Ciel is on his other side, set a foot apart, head canted back a little as he looks up at the mounted painting with an impassive face. The paintings have become more and more racy the longer the hallway stretches. It started with young women in various stages of undress – nothing Ciel hasn’t seen before, of course, Sebastian found all those dirty booklets months ago. He still wonders where Ciel has gotten them from, but the boy keeps firmly quiet about that. A thigh here, a nipple there, nothing too wild. Couples in the next few, of all sexes; men and women, women and women, men and men, often as many as ten in one painting. They’re expertly done, Sebastian can tell, although he disapproves of the topics when Ciel’s tender eyes are concerned. There is some jealousy there, as well – he wants Ciel’s beautiful mismatched eyes on himself, not on foreign flesh.

The one they stand in front of now sets a new level of depraved. It’s old, Sebastian can tell, and an original. It shows an Asian woman on her back, naked and spread out, with a stylized wave in the background as Japanese artists were wont to do. She is pinned down by an octopus that’s as large as she is, slender tentacles wound around her legs and arms, cupping one pale breast and curling around the nipple. One is in her mouth; the octopus’ mouth caresses her oversized cunt. She is obviously enjoying herself. She grips the tentacles around her tightly with both hands, but just to hold on, not to free herself. 

To his credit, Ciel says nothing and he doesn’t blush. Sebastian can see the very tips of his ears grow rosy, though. Lau seems disappointed the prim little lord doesn’t have a biting remark or gets flustered. “It’s a great treasure”, he offers, looking down serenely at the young man that comes up to his shoulder by now. The Ciel he’d come to known, a boy of twelve, confused and lost in the world he’d been thrust into, would have scoffed and blushed and stormed off. The young lord says nothing, the one exposed eye on the piece with polite intent. “It looks priceless”, Ciel replies after a long moment of tense silence. Lau gives a surprised chuckle. 

There are three pictures left, none having as much impact on Ciel as this one. When they turn to leave, heading back to the coach, Ciel is quiet, pensive. Sebastian leaves him to his thoughts.

**

When Ciel is firmly asleep, he begins squirming. Sebastian knows this behavior; the young master is dreaming and from the bulge forming beneath the covers, it’s a pleasant vision. It takes but a moment to slip into the boy’s unconscious.

The scene is the color of parchment, no real texture to anything. Ciel is on his knees in front of a tall shadow that vaguely looks like Sebastian, nursing the thick, flushed cock that stands out from the dark silhouette. Soft sucking sounds fill the air around him, broken by coy little mewls and gasps. Sebastian inches closer to watch.  
His little master is naked, all that cream colored skin on display. The rosy nipples are hard and flushed, like tight little rosebuds against his thin chest. Most of Ciel’s height is in his legs; long, elegant, coltish, folded underneath him now. He has to strain to reach the dripping cock with his plush lips, lapping the thick head, kissing it. Both his eyes are uncovered and open, glancing up. His hands, as Sebastian has taught him, are behind his back, though unbound. Sebastian is a second from taking the place of the shadowy version of himself to enjoy that kittenish caress when the scene changes.

The shadow wiggles; the hard cock lengthens and slides deeper into Ciel’s open mouth without either of them moving. The boy moans as it slides back and forth, deep into his snug throat without the hindrance of a gag reflex in his dream self. It looks as if other cocks are coming out of the silhouette until squirming tendrils of shadow curl around Ciel’s thighs. They are yanked apart until he almost loses his balance; two other lengths of shadow drape around the boy and secure his wrists at the small of his back. A third wraps around his svelte waist to keep him upright. Thinner ones envelop the base of his drooling cock and his smooth balls, dig apart the cheeks of his round little ass. Saliva is escaping Ciel’s mouth where he is pounded by an impossible length of cock, back and forth in smooth rhythm, the heavy veins throbbing. More tendrils sprout from the shadow, wiggling in the air like tentacles. One caresses the twitching pink hole between Ciel’s check, drooling thick, viscous nectar against it. The head presses against the muscle; when it pulls back, Sebastian can see it planted more of the semen-like fluid inside the boy, making him slick and messy, only to push inside. Ciel mewls around his mouthful, eyes closing, dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. A second cock breaches between his spread thighs and slides inside him quick and agile.

Instead of jealousy, Sebastian feels a warm current of arousal run through him. His haughty little master is being violated by three big cocks, all of which look exactly like his, filling his needy holes; as he watches, one of the thinner tendrils creeps up the Earl’s length and quickly, mercilessly disappears into the small mouth atop. Ciel’s eyes open wide and he cries out; held in the shadow’s grasp, the tentacles pulse inside and around him, filling him to the brim with the sweet nectar drooling out of them. Sebastian knows it must be sweet. Ciel is lapping it up too greedily for it to taste any different.

The thick one in Ciel’s mouth pulls back and erupts the sticky stuff all over the boy’s cherub face. It drips from his nose and cheeks, catches in his fine, sweat-damp hair, is licked up by a pink little tongue. When Ciel glances up pleadingly, the shadow has piercing hellfire eyes and is grinning down at him with too many, too sharp teeth filling the split in the darkness that is his mouth. Ciel’s mismatched eyes slide over to where Sebastian stands; he stares even as the cock shoves back into his slack mouth, all his holes filled once more. 

The vision winks out like a candle that has been dropped into water.

Sebastian opens his eyes to find Ciel sitting up in bed, staring at him in what seems to be at least part horror. 

“What the fuck have you been doing to me?!”

Ah, so the kid has figured Sebastian’s presence in his dreams weren’t coincidence. He also seems to believe the visions have been crafted by his demon.

“My Lord”, Sebastian placates in a soothing tone, sitting up as well; both of them are wearing their nightshirts, though Ciel’s is perpetually too large for his skinny frame, baring both collarbones and part of one shoulder. “I have done nothing…but watch.” The blush he was waiting for all afternoon finally makes an appearance. “But I….you….but…!!”

Sebastian chuckles and gathers his little master close, kissing the top of his ear. “All that you have been dreaming about has been created here”, he purrs and taps one damp temple. “It’s all you.” Ciel huffs and sinks against him, rubbing his right eye as if the contract seal itches. 

“Bloody demon. Stay the hell out of my head.”

Sebastian grins and kisses the bridge of Ciel’s nose, choosing to disobey only this one. “No, my Lord.”


End file.
